


Just Walk Beside Me

by vidocqsociety



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-24
Updated: 2012-08-24
Packaged: 2017-11-12 19:18:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/494743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vidocqsociety/pseuds/vidocqsociety
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Friendship is born in all sorts of circumstances, between all sorts of people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Walk Beside Me

**Author's Note:**

> A fill for [this post](http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/9218.html?thread=20043010#t20043010) over at the [kink meme](http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/9218.html). You may be noticing a pattern.
> 
> As for the "graphic depiction," it's only in the first section, and it's against a generic alien. But I figured better safe than sorry.

Steve was literally between a rock and a hard place. He had stupidly managed to get himself stuck between a building and a massive boulder (that he assumed used to be a part of another building but was now just... there), and an alien soldier had descended upon him. He had no room to throw his shield, and he had no other weapon.

This was not how he pictured the day going when he woke up this morning.

"Come on," he goaded. "Do something already."

The alien grinned. He raised his weapon, poised to strike--

And then his head exploded.

The alien fell, first to its knees and it keeled over entirely. Natasha stood behind it, gun still pointed at it. "You okay?" It was definitely dead. She lowered her gun and checked the chamber.

"Fine." Steve shimmied free and tried to shake the goo from his shield. Nothing.

"What are teammates for?" Natasha asked with a shrug. She grabbed a newspaper from the dozens that littered the street and swiped it across his shield. The result wasn't great, but it was miles above what it had been.

"Thanks," said Steve. "Duck."

Natasha did so. Steve flung his shield above her head, slicing cleanly through two aliens. He caught it one-handed. Natasha righted herself.

"That," Steve said. Natasha snapped up another sheet of newspaper for him before running off to shoot something else.

Just another Tuesday.

*

"There's something about skulking around on rooftops that makes me feel like I should start singing 'Chim Chim Cher-ee'."

"Singing what?"

Natasha grinned. "It's from _Mary Poppins_. I'll add it to the list."

"What list?" Clint asked.

"Of classic movies Steve needs to see," Natasha explained. "I can't believe I didn't have _Mary Poppins_ on there already. It was one of my favorites when I was a kid."

"You had Disney movies growing up?" Clint asked.

"What do think my childhood was like, Barton, War and Peace? I grew up in Moscow. Very cultured. We had Disney and everything."

"Okay, fine. I guess you just don't seem the Disney type."

"Neither do you, but you watch _The Lion King_ at least twice a month."

"Hey, it's Hamlet, okay? Just more accessible and with a catchy soundtrack."

There was movement in the alley below. They stilled, and watched a cat jump from trash can to trash can. They relaxed somewhat. Clint began to hum.

"Really?" Natasha asked.

"It's your fault," he said. "It's stuck in my head now." Natasha shook her head, fondly exasperated. Clint continued humming. Then, softly: " _Good luck will rub off when I shake hands with you._ " 

"Clint." She was trying very hard not to laugh. She turned to Steve and rolled her eyes. He grinned back.

Out if the corner of his eye, he saw movement. "Hawkeye." Clint stopped singing. Natasha stiffened. They both looked very serious. "Two o'clock."

"On it." Clint swung a leg over the edge, right above the uppermost platform of the fire escape. He winked at Natasha. " _Or blow me a kiss and that's lucky too._ " He slipped off and into the shadows. Seconds later, an arrow sang out from the darkness and struck the target.

Natasha and Steve leaned over the edge. "You do realize we have to watch that tonight," Steve said.

"Of course," she replied. "You want garlic salt or kettle corn?"

*

"Can I talk to you for a second?"

"You can talk to me for however long you want." Natasha finished painting her last nail. "What do you need?"

Steve sat down at the table. "There's this, uh... there's this girl?"

"Right." Natasha nodded for him to go on.

"She's a waitress down at the café. We talk sometimes, when I go for lunch. She's really sweet. And pretty. And some old guy told me a while ago to ask for her number, and I want to--I wanted to then--but I have no idea how to go about it."

"Cap this for me?" Natasha slid the bottle of polish towards Steve. He twisted the cap on. She could have done it herself, but she knew when Steve was nervous, he liked to have something to do with his hands, and just the thought of asking this girl out was making him jittery.

"And it's complicated. I mean, I don't know how to explain the whole frozen-for-70-years thing. _Do_ I explain it? How does this work?"

Natasha tried not to laugh. He looked helpless. It was the exact opposite of how he looked out in the field. It was downright precious. "You go and you tell her that you enjoy talking to her, and maybe she'd like to go and get a drink or a coffee and talk some more, when she's not working."

Steve blinked at her. "That's it?"

Natasha nodded, gently blowing on her nails. "It's not complicated."

"Should I bring flowers?"

"Just bring yourself."

"Okay." He looked lighter. "That's really all I have to do?"

Natasha nodded. "It's comforting to know that men, throughout the ages, have always had to complicate things for themselves."

"Ha ha." He stood up. "You're a peach."

"Don't I know it."

Steve tugged gently at her hair before making his exit.

Tony walked in as Steve walked out. They gave each other a friendly nod as they passed. Tony sat down in the chair Steve vacated. "Okay, what gives?"

"I'm sorry?"

"You and Steve. You're like Donny and Marie, but not creepy. What's up with that?"

"We're friends."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"Because we are. Is that so difficult to wrap your head around?"

"I guess it is, yeah. I get you and Clint, with your whole ninjassassin superspy Fight Club thing. But Steve? He's... _Steve_. He watches _Mary Poppins_. He went to feed ducks, for God's sake."

"Both of those were my idea."

It was like she could actually see Tony's brain fry, just a little. "What?"

"I like that movie. And I like the park. And ducks. Steve wanted to get out for a while, so he came with me."

"To feed ducks."

"Yes," she said. "No ulterior motives. Just duck-feeding."

Tony blinked at her. "Everyone in this house is weird but me." He grabbed a bottle of water and left the room.

*

Natasha found Steve staring blankly at the television, the opening for _The Longest Day_ playing. It wasn't the glazed-over gaze of Clint or Thor or Bruce when he got stuck in a 'How It's Made' He looked haunted, which immediately put her on edge. "What's wrong?"

Steve blinked slowly. He didn't look at her. "TCM. They're having a World War II movie marathon. Before this, they showed an old newsreel." He huffed what was supposed to be a laugh. Natasha sat down next to him. "It was me." He finally looked at her. "And Dum-Dum. And Falsworth. And Jones and Dernier and Morita and..." He swallowed hard. "And Bucky."

Natasha curled up beside him, head against his shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"Seeing them... it hurt, but it made me realize how much I _don't_ think about them. Not as much as I used to. As much as I _should_."

"Just because they're not at the forefront of your mind doesn't mean you stopped caring about them," she said. "You're not my friend just when you're thinking about me, right?"

"Of course not."

"Well, there you go."

"I don't think it's that easy."

"It isn't. But it's what gets me through when I remember friends I've lost."

Steve looked at her with a new appreciation. Because for as young as Natasha was, she had in her the experiences of a hundred people. And they had all been hurt. And she still soldiered on.

Because that's what she was. For as much as she and Clint insisted they weren't, they were. Because after a blow, they regrouped and pushed forward, mind always on the mission. It was one of the many ways she reminded him of Peggy. Both women kept up a cold, hard exterior to protect themselves against a world of men who thought less of them because they were women. They hid away a warmth and brightness that Steve felt privlidged to see. He shifted, and put an arm around her shoulders. "Thank you."

She gave him a watery smile. "Do you want to see what else is on?"

"No, this... this is good. I want to watch this." 

Natasha kicked her shoes off. "Okay. We'll watch this." 

Steve leaned his head against hers. When the Allied troops stormed the beaches, he cried. Natasha smoothed her hand over his head, not saying a word.

Because everyone needs a good cry sometimes.

*

"You and Natasha." Tony found Steve sitting at the kitchen table, reading the paper. 

Steve folded the paper back to see Tony, because it was rude not to, even though he really wanted to finish the article he was reading. "What about me and Natasha?" 

"You're friends." 

"Well observed." 

Tony, in a rare moment, ignored that and continued on. "Why?" 

"She's a helluva dame." 

"Have you called her that? Like, to her face?" 

"Yeah." 

"And she hasn't killed you?" 

"No. She thinks it's funny." 

"You sure?" 

"I called her a dame by accident and apologized, but she laughed and said it was fine, and that she'd been called worse." Steve's mouth briefly set in a hard line at that. "But she said it was cute, so I guess that gives me the all-clear?" 

"Her not shooting you gives you the all-clear. Her saying it's cute... you are officially a legend." 

"I think that just makes me her friend." 

Tony shook his head. "Seriously. Everyone in this house but me." He left. 

"Everyone but you what?" 

From the hallway, he yelled, "You're all weird!" 

Steve rose an eyebrow. "Says the man with the talking house." 

*

Another battle, another group meal. This time, pizza. 

They're all crammed around a table in a tiny pizza shop a block away from where they pulled out another close victory. "This is why I love New York," said Tony, tucking into a third slice. "Greatest pizza ever made." 

Natasha picked the olives from her slice of veggie and put them on Steve's plate. "And the culture?" 

"Means nothing to me," Tony said with a wave of his hand. 

Steve drank the last of his Coke. "Then why did you get upset when Natasha and I went to the MoMA?" 

"Because I don't like not being invited places. Clint was upset, too. Weren't you, Clint?" 

"Nope. Didn't care." 

"Why not?" 

"Because if I'm gonna fall asleep in the middle of the day, I don't need to follow Cap around when he goes into tour guide mode. I'm gonna do it on the couch, in my underwear, watching 'General Hospital' like every other normal person, thank you very much." 

"Your definition of normal is very strange," Steve said, eating Natasha's discarded olives. 

"Actually, it's pretty accurate," Bruce said. 

"See? What's your story?" 

"Um... Nick Jr.?" Bruce ducked his head sheepishly. "You'd be amazed at the conversations you can have using Spanish learned from Dora the Explorer." 

"I have not heard this tale." Thor paused halfway into his own large meat-lover's pizza. "Who is this Dora, and what does she explore?" 

Tony gave a pointed look at Steve and Natasha. "Not kidding. The _only one_."

**Author's Note:**

> "Don't walk behind me; I may not lead. Don't walk in front of me; I may not follow. Just walk beside me and be my friend."  
> \--Albert Camus


End file.
